Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. get in.
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